You Fill My Head Up With Daydreams
by smc-27
Summary: They're with one another constantly, doing whatever they can together and falling asleep wherever they do. He takes care of her and she takes care of him. But they're not a couple. No one knows why. NS Oneshot follow up to We'll Be Alright


**A/N:** This takes place after another of my oneshots, _We'll Be Alright_. You don't have to read it to understand this, since it's basically post-3x12.

**----**

Blair walks into the living room one morning to find Nate and Serena sleeping, all pressed up against one another, on the _floor_. She stops in her tracks, tuts the heel of her limited release Burberry riding boot against the ground, and heads for the front door of the suite. She's got a class in a half hour and she's running late, and she just doesn't have any time to reprimand her best friend for sleeping on the floor when she still, every so often, feels some of the effects of her concussion.

But when she glances at them again, turning to look over her shoulder, she rolls her eyes, sighs, and walks toward where they lay. They're in a little heap _on the floor_, Serena's leg slung over Nate's and his arm around Serena, holding her close, and Blair realizes, with no bitterness or anything, that Nate never held onto her that way. She pulls a blanket off the back of the sofa and drapes it over them just as Chuck steps out of his bedroom, and he merely shakes his head and murmurs yet another goodbye to his girl. She presses the sweetest of kisses to his cheek and says, in all kinds of seriousness, "We need to do something about _that_," as she jerks her head towards the living room. She's out the door in seconds (he watches her go, a little in awe of her flawless appearance) and he doesn't even have to ask to what she's referring or what she wants to do.

He watches the sleeping pair as he sips his morning coffee, and he contemplates throwing water on them or something, but he's not quite that mean.

He just gets ready for his day and slams the door loudly on the way out.

----

Serena is startled awake and realizes that Chuck and Blair have probably just left for the day. Nate is still sleeping next to her, and she sits up, giggling as she does, because he's probably the heaviest sleeper she knows, and he can sleep through almost everything.

"Nate," she whispers. He doesn't budge. His hand is on her thigh now, since she moved, and her skin feels far too hot there. Her flannel pajama pants (ones he made fun of, since they have little yellow ducks on them) are riding low on her hips and her stomach is exposed where her long sleeved tee shirt has ridden up.

She'd almost feel weird about this, him seeing her so casual, so _normal_. Since she came back to New York at the end of the summer, she's been all about high fashion, wanting to look and feel older and be taken more seriously. For the first time since she was five, she doesn't have to wear a school uniform every day, and she's taking the opportunity to let her clothes make some kind of statement. Now she just needs to figure out what statement it is she wants to make.

But despite the labels and the high heels and the makeup she normally wears, the last two months have been spent almost entirely in this hotel suite/apartment (whatever Chuck is calling the place he and Nate share). With Nate and Blair and Chuck. The girls have practically moved in, since Blair says the dorm is far too common for her taste (she said it like it was some kind of secret, like the rest of them hadn't known it all along) and Serena, for a while, was to be kept under a watchful eye. At Chuck and Nate's, there was always someone around to make sure she didn't over-exert herself, and that she remembered to do the things the doctors suggested.

Since the accident, she's spent almost every night sleeping with Nate. Or at least sleeping near him. He fell asleep studying in the living room one night and she lay in his bed alone. Another weekend, he spent at his grandfather's estate (upon Serena's insistence) trying to mend his relationship with the members of his family who have wronged him the least.

But other than that, they share a bed. Or a couch. Or a floor.

Even though they aren't officially together.

He hasn't brought it up, and she's too afraid to. She's starting to wonder if maybe getting their friendship back (better than it ever was, actually) is all they're meant to do. Maybe friends is all they're meant to be.

She's finding it harder and harder to believe that. Especially when she wakes up next to him and is reminded that he smiles in his sleep, and that he always sleeps on her right, and that if he wakes up before her, he always brings her a cup of coffee before he wakes her.

He's too good to her. Lately, she's been learning how to be good to him too. Really good. She cooked him dinner one night last week (Hamburger Helper, but hey, she's trying) and she tidies up his room when it's messy. She helps him study and reads his essays over for him.

And if she wakes up before him, she never jostles him or scares him from his sleep.

She leans down, her hand pressed lightly against his chest, and places her lips right next to his ear. "Na-aaate," she sings softly.

"Mm."

"Nate, wakey, wakey," she says, accidentally-on-purpose letting her lips graze his cheek. His eyes flutter open, pools of deep navy staring up at her sleepily, and he smiles a little wider. "Hi." He grumbles a little, closes his eyes again and reaches for her wrist, pulling her back towards him so she's almost on top of him. She settles in, because it's impossible not to, not when they fit together like this, and lets out a breath against his neck. "You have to get up."

"Nuh uhn."

"You have a class." But he's not moving, just pulling her closer.

"No."

"Thursday morning. Economics lecture."

"Cancelled."

"How do you know?" she asks, though her eyes are closed now too, and she thinks that she doesn't want him to move.

"E-mail."

She thinks he's lying, but she doesn't mention it. She just kisses his neck (doesn't know why, hasn't done it before) and his hand slips into her hair, and they fall asleep again.

When she wakes up close to noon, she's alone, but there's a full carafe of coffee on the table next to a note with his messy writing, telling her he'll be home late, but not to order dinner until he gets there.

She smiles, stretches, and pours herself a cup of coffee.

They're acting like the perfect couple they aren't.

----

Nate is walking across campus on his way to meet Dan, and he's got a little extra spring in his step. He's been whistling to himself all day (songs from Glee, because Serena loves it and that's what they watched the night before) and he gave a homeless guy a $20 on the way to school. He's already gotten the notes from the lecture he lied about and missed just so he could spend another couple hours cuddled up with a girl that isn't even really his. One of his acquaintances from his class, Mark, asked him what had gotten into him, or, "What girl you got into," and Nate just shook his head, hoping that his smile wasn't totally transparent.

Because she kissed him. He didn't dream it, and he didn't imagine it. She kissed him. Okay, so it was only his neck, and it was two seconds and she probably thought he was asleep, but she kissed him. That has to mean something.

As he approaches the coffee shop that has become he and Dan's hangout, he notices Vanessa, standing with her back to him, kissing some guy. It's not really weird, even though she's his ex, but he feels bad for Dan. He'll be showing up any second and he has to see this display. But when they pull apart, she tips her head back and laughs at something, and Nate sees that the guy she's kissing _is_ Dan.

Before he can stop himself from ruining their moment, he shouts "What the hell?!" and holds his arms out, as if to ask what in the world has changed since he last talked to Dan a couple days ago.

"Oh. Uh. You know. Vanessa and I...," Dan stutters. Vanessa laughs, like he's the most adorable thing in the world, her face all lit up with newly-realized feelings (or something like that anyway) and she covers his mouth teasingly with her hand.

"We just...worked things out," she says seriously. Nate shakes his head and she smiles at him. "I've gotta run." She kisses Dan quickly and starts down the street, and Nate watches Dan smiling like a complete fool.

He kind of wants to wear that smile himself.

"You and Vanessa," Nate says, patting Dan on the back. "That was only about, what? 10 years in the making?"

Dan shoots him a look as they walk through the doors into the shop. "You really wanna play that game? Because as obsessed as _I _was with Serena? You've been obsessed with her for _way_ longer."

Nate rolls his eyes but doesn't argue, and he drops his things on the table and sits down, because it's Dan's turn to pay.

But he wasn't _obsessed_ with Serena. He was _in love_ with her. There's a big difference.

Dan knows as much. He's become Nate's sounding board for all things Serena-related. Chuck's too close to the situation, and far too 'involved' to just let things run their course. Nate's already almost certain that Chuck is growing tired of playing the waiting game. Blair is completely out of the question, since not only is she worse than Chuck, as far as meddling is concerned, but she's also Serena's best friend, and he's pretty sure they tell one another _everything_. Dan is fairly impartial, and as messed up as his own situation was for a while, he's actually got some good advice.

But most of the last two months, they've just been two lovesick fools pining over girls who don't (didn't?) even know their feelings.

Dan sets a cup of coffee in front of Nate and immediately starts filling in the details of he and Vanessa getting together, how she showed up at his door insisting that he entertain her, and maybe because he'd had a couple beers before she showed up (confidence) or because he'd gotten tired of waiting for 'the right time' (sometimes you have to make the right time), he grabbed her by the arms and kissed her and told her that he is in love with her and _has been_ in love with her, and that she should take him seriously because he doesn't want to _stop_ loving her.

Nate smiles. "What girl doesn't want to hear that?" he asks. Dan ducks his head a little bit, like he still can't believe that it actually happened.

And really, maybe Dan got the nerve to say the words, but Nate's been showing it in other ways. Big ways that he knows Serena appreciates and understands. Well, maybe she understands. The more time passes since his confession (or two), the more he's beginning to think that this might just be her letting him down easy. And it's not like he really minds taking care of her this way, but he'd certainly like for her to...to...

To be his girlfriend.

"So what about you?" Dan asks after taking a sip of his coffee. "You and Serena still perfecting the art of the sideward glance? Or have you progressed from there?"

Nate scoffs, rolls his eyes and shakes his head, and runs his hand through his hair. "I dunno, man," he says in exasperation. "We, uh...she kissed me."

"What!? That's huge!" Dan says, his face lighting up at just the thought of his friend being as happy as he himself is.

"No, it wasn't...I mean, it wasn't like, a _kiss_," Nate admits. Dan looks confused. "It was...this morning, and we were laying together, and...Jesus, I'm talking like a girl."

"So, she kissed you, but she didn't really kiss you? I mean, she either did, or she didn't. There's not a whole lot of grey area there."

Nate sighs and pulls open his laptop, and very suddenly, now that Dan's in whatever state of blissful couplehood he's in, he doesn't want to talk about his relationship with Serena.

Mostly because it isn't really much of one. Not the way he wants it to be.

"Look, I'm not...I mean, I don't want to make it seem like I'm some kind of expert, but...Maybe she needs to hear you say it again," Dan says, and Nate practically ignores him, because there's nothing worse than someone telling you to do something you've already done.

Especially when it didn't work out so well the first time. Or the second time.

----

"Serena!" Blair calls out as soon as she's inside the door.

"In here!"

Blair sighs, rolls her eyes, because of course, Serena is in Nate's bedroom even though he's not there. She has no idea how they haven't just _done it_ already, and she's bitten her tongue (but only because Chuck promised her that their two 'roommates' would work it out) and hasn't said anything about it, but frankly, she's just _sick_ of living with all this sexual tension. For two people who were so completely unable control themselves before, they're completely unwilling to let themselves lose control now.

She walks into the room to see Serena wearing nothing but a pair of Nate's boxers, a pair of blue and white knee-high socks, and a plain white v-neck tee shirt, her hair pulled up and held in place with a pair of restaurant chopsticks, and a copy of Forbes open in front of her as she lays on the bed.

"Hey, B! How was school?" Serena asks happily. She's come to really love living in this suite with three of her favourite people. Blair's usually home first, so the girls have time to talk without distraction.

"_What_ are you _wearing_?" Blair asks, stopping in her tracks, hating (really hating) that her best friend looks_ so good_ in _anything_, but also feeling a little grossed out that Serena is wearing a pair of Nate's _underwear_.

"Oh," Serena laughs, looking down at herself.

"Are you even...Serena! You don't even have a _bra_ on!" Blair says, but she's starting to laugh, herself, because only Serena would laze around in this ensemble, a nearly threadbare tee shirt and nothing underneath, and think it was completely acceptable.

"Who needs it?" Serena asks, smirking mischievously.

"Um,_ you do_?" Blair suggests. They both start laughing and Blair walks over, sitting at the edge of the bed. "We need to talk."

Serena sits up, jokingly squints, and says in a very business-like voice, "this sounds serious." She smiles again and flips her hair over her shoulder. "I can put on a bra if it's really a problem."

"Serena."

"Okay! Okay, serious talk. I promise," Serena pledges, crossing an X over her heart with her hand.

Blair closes Serena's magazine and sets it on the bedside table, and she smoothes out her skirt before her eyes meet her best friend's again. "We need to talk about you and Nate." Serena stiffens immediately, looking down to her crossed legs and running her thumb over a dimple on the inside of her ankle. She doesn't say anything, so Blair presses on. "You two are practically married, but you haven't even started _dating_ yet, S."

"Blair..."

"No excuses. I won't accept them. I've kept quiet long enough, and it's time for you to own up to it," Blair insists rigidly. She pauses, waits for Serena to look up at her. "You want to _be_ with him, Serena."

"I don't..." Serena stops, because the truth is, she doesn't really know what she wants. "I don't _know_, B."

Blair rolls her eyes dramatically, lets out a frustrated sigh, and glares at her best friend. "You're such a _liar_."

"Blair!" Serena laughs.

"No, you're lying. To all of us. Because you can sit around here and deny it all you want, but you're wearing Nate's..._underpants_," Blair says, doing her best to keep from smiling as Serena giggles. "You two sleep together every night, and you're...you act like..." She sighs again, and looks at Serena as the blonde tries to comprehend the point. "You act like I always thought you would if you got together."

The breath leaves Serena's lungs, and she doesn't know what to say. She doesn't know if it's really cool, or really weird, that Blair has thought about Nate and Serena together. "Blair..."

The brunette straightens her posture, then looks down at Serena and stands. "So either do something about it, or move out, because I'm sick of watching you two like this, then seeing him acting like a lost puppy because he thinks you don't ever want him."

"What?"

"Oh _please_, S!" Blair pleads, walking towards the door. "You don't _honestly_ think that he's not in love with you." She tilts her head to the side and scoffs when she sees that Serena looks surprised. It's just about the world's worst kept secret. "Put some clothes on."

"No!" Serena protests childishly, standing from her place. "Actually, I demand that you put on a pair of Chuck's boxers." Blair shakes her head as she slips out of the room, but Serena trails behind her. "And no bra!"

"Serena!" Blair hisses. "I most certainly will not wear..." She looks Serena up and down. "_That_."

"Promise me!"

Blair kinks her brow as she reaches the entrance to Chuck's (well, she and Chuck's) bedroom. Sometimes, she realizes, she needs to humor Serena, to make a little bargain in order to get what she wants for herself. "Promise me you'll deal with the...Nate situation."

Serena grins all wide, the way she always has when she thinks she's getting her way, and nods once, emphatically. "Deal."

Blair rolls her eyes and steps into the bedroom, and Serena runs into the kitchen for two glasses of milk and some cookies. When Blair walks into the living room wearing a black tee shirt (no bra, though she's clearly self-conscious), a pair of black and red plaid boxers that she's surprised Chuck even owns, and some black and white argyle socks, Serena laughs, claps her hands together, and they collapse together on the sofa. They eat cookies and watch Oprah and cry when one woman from Idaho is given a car and a college scholarship, and Blair spits milk out her nose when she laughs at Serena's best Sarah Palin impression.

Chuck walks into the suite just after five o'clock and he's loosening his tie as he steps into view, but he stops in his place when he sees what his prim and mostly proper girlfriend is wearing.

"Well, well," he says wolfishly, eyes fixed on his girlfriend's admittedly sexy ensemble. "What is this?"

Blair gets up and runs towards him, and he smiles, because she never runs (Serena's influence always did tend to make her a little crazy) and she throws her arms around his neck and kisses him. He murmurs something in her ear and kisses her, and she giggles and looks back to Serena. It's like she's asking permission to go to the bedroom with him or something, and though the blonde makes a face, she waves them away with a flick of her wrist, because not only does she not care to think about whatever it is the two brunettes are about to do together, but she wants them to be happy, even if that does mean that she has to go into Nate's bedroom and turn her iPod up as loud as it'll go.

The reality of it is, she's happy for her friends. They're oddly perfect for one another, Chuck with all his maturity (who knew?) and Blair with all her wanting to be perfect (everyone knew). He understands her flaws, and she lets him know that his are okay to have, and they balance one another out. As Serena lays back down on Nate's bed, curling up into the fetal position and putting on a little Alicia Keys (she always was a bit of a sucker for the girl), she realizes that maybe she and Nate balance each other out too. Maybe that's why they've always gotten along so well.

She's mouthing the words to _Diary_ when she feels a hand on her arm and startles a little bit, opening her eyes and turning onto her back. It's Nate, staring down at her and smiling, his plaid button down shirt's collar all messed up and his hair wet from snowflakes. He mouths a hello as she tugs her earbuds from her ears. She looks at the clock and sees that it's nearly 6:30, and when she raises her brow at him, he shrugs his shoulder. She almost laughs at herself, because it's not like he owes her any explanation or anything, but she does know his schedule. He said he was going to be late, but she didn't think he'd be this late, not when his class ended at 3:00.

"Hi," he says, still smiling, looking _really_ cute, she thinks, as he tries to hide the way he's checking her out.

But he can't really help it. She just looks so good, wearing what she's wearing and laying on his bed. Well, what he's come to call their bed.

And as he thinks about it (he's been doing it since he left Dan an hour ago and started walking home) he realizes that their situation is completely stupid and messed up and just absurd. She's living with him, sleeping in his bed every night and acting like his girlfriend, but she isn't his girlfriend. He thinks that she must want to be, at least on some level, or she wouldn't be acting the way she is. And he doesn't think he's just making that up, either.

"I stole these," she says, running her hand over the fabric at her thigh. He laughs, shakes his head and rests his hand on her calf as she drapes her legs over his. "How's Dan?"

He smiles, loving that she knows of his standing 'date' with Dan every Thursday. "With Vanessa."

Her eyes go wide, and he laughs. "What?!" He shrugs his shoulder and shakes his head. "About time."

She bites her lip and looks up at him through her eyelashes when she realizes what she's just said, because it probably applies to she and Nate even more than it does Dan and Vanessa. Nate runs his hand over her skin, like he feels the same way, and though Blair is indisposed at the moment, Serena is sure that if she were witness to this moment, she'd very sternly tell them to just get together already.

"Where are Chuck and Blair?" he asks, kinking his brow, because he's not sure he even really wants to know. She just laughs and points down the hall through the open door, and he rolls his eyes playfully.

"It's kinda my fault," she laughs. "I forced Blair to wear something like this, and...Chuck liked it." Nate shakes his head and moves to lay down next to her, his arm falling across her stomach.

"What's not to like?" he says quietly. She feels her cheeks heat up. He's given her more direct compliments, of course, (beautiful, amazing, alive) but this one is making her blush. "Serena?"

"Yeah?" she asks as she weaves her fingers together with his.

She turns on her side and he pulls her close, almost like he wants to make sure she can't leave him this time. Her eyes look crazy blue, she's wearing just a coat of mascara, and she's looking at him without any worry at all. They've made their apologies, and they've talked about everything but the thing he's about to bring up. He thinks she's expecting it, almost, that maybe she's just been waiting for him to bring it up, and she's prepared for it, prepared to finally stay if he tells her to.

She groans when her phone rings, and he reluctantly lets her get up and answer. He wonders if he'll ever get a proper, uninterrupted chance to have the conversation he's almost certain she wants to have too. He watches her (can't help but) as she talks, and she makes some promise to her mother to attend some benefit or another, and she rolls her eyes when she says that she'll go to Bendel's for a new dress, and yes, she'll make sure Chuck is still planning on attending.

She hangs up the phone and throws it towards Nate, making him laugh as she flops back onto the mattress. "Promise me you'll never let me become her," she pleads as she moves so her head is resting on his lap, now that he's sitting up.

He laughs. "There are worse people to become."

His heart is pounding though, because never is tied to always, and always is tied to forever, and forever is tied to love.

Or at least that's how he sees it.

She looks up at him again, lashy eyes and freckled nose and pink glossed lips. "I guess," she concedes. "So you wanna be my date to this thing on Saturday?"

He grins, far too widely, and it gives him away. "Your date, huh?"

She rolls her eyes, but she's almost laughing. "Mhm. You have to wear a tux. You'll be my arm candy. Don't expect me to actually enjoy your company."

"Oh?" he laughs. "Am I that hard to be around?" She shrugs her shoulder coyly as he twirls a long strand of her hair around his index finger. "Well, you don't have to stay in my room, then," he teases.

"No!" she says, grabbing onto his hand. He laughs when she holds it against her cheek. "I like it in here."

"Well, it...likes...you," he says. They look at each other for a moment, then both burst into laughter. "Sorry. You know what I mean."

Her phone rings again, and she grabs it, immediately hitting the ignore button. "Who the hell is calling me? Half the people I know are in this apartment right now!"

"You know, it wouldn't kill you to actually _leave_ this apartment," he suggests, looking around at the four walls of his bedroom.

He knows she's been out, shopping or spending time with Erik or job hunting, but that's been the extent of her travels. She's been inside the apartment more than she's been out of it, that's for sure. He's also very aware that when he's around, she usually is, too. She seems to do all her 'errands' during the days when he's at school, sometimes meeting up with him somewhere in the city. The few times she's stayed at her mom's place, he's been out of town. The other day when she went to some sample sale in Queens, she came back with a blue cashmere sweater that she insisted would look great on him.

He doesn't know what in the hell she's waiting for. But he's getting sick of sitting around, hoping she'll come to him and say some magic words.

The door at the other end of the apartment opens, and Blair and Chuck saunter out, fully clothed, dressed to the nines, and they insist that they, the four of them, are going out to dinner.

As they get up to change, Serena is very aware that she misses the way Nate was twirling her hair, and he is very aware that he misses the way she was holding his hand.

----

"You know," she says as they stumble back into their bedroom (she's in a frame of mind to think of it as that) after dinner, "no matter how much I see them together, it's still really weird that Chuck and Blair are together."

"I know!" he cries, like he's been thinking it forever and waiting for someone else to bring it up. "It's like...it's like they so don't belong together, but they really _do_, and...and..."

"And if they were apart, it'd be..._stupid_," she says, as though it's the most profound thought she's ever had. She flops onto the bed, though she's still wearing the dress she wore to dinner, and her shoes are still fastened and she's still got her makeup on. She's just really _tired_ all of a sudden.

"Yeah," he says. He's watching her, though, kind of on display (she's beautiful, so she's always something to behold). Her dress is crimson red and tight through the body with a flirty little flare at the skirt. Her hair is kind of a mess and her eyes look dark blue in this lighting. He's not sure if she's more beautiful now, in this, or hours before when she was wearing his boxers and very little else. That's the thing with Serena; every look is better than the last.

She rolls onto her side, definitely feeling the effects of the wine they had with dinner, and lifts her arm up to show the zipper at her side. "Unzip me?" she requests.

He loves this, always has, and he walks towards her thinking that of all the things she used to 'make' him do, this was probably his favourite. She'd ask him to zip her into her dresses before they went to functions, or unzip her after them, and everything in the middle was just bonus. Something about the smoothness of her skin at her side always did make his heart race a little bit. There's a freckle right on her ribcage where the band of her bra (she never did wear one with these dresses) would sit. He always liked to run his finger over that freckle, knowing that she wouldn't notice, that she probably had no idea that freckle was even there.

He doesn't want to keep that secret anymore. As he tugs down the zipper and the fabric falls open to reveal her skin, he runs his thumb back and forth over that freckle.

"What?" she asks, when she notices he's paying attention to something.

"This," he says, and she looks to where his hand is. "I spent a lot of summers looking at this freckle."

"What?" she giggles girlishly.

"Your bathing suits always showed this," he explains, their eyes meeting. She's finding it hard to focus on his words and not his hand. "I love it."

"Nate," she says, though it's more of a breathy whisper than anything else.

He shrugs his shoulder and his hand slides from her side, across her back and onto the mattress, and she sits up, leans over and kisses his cheek, and stands up. She'd like to respond, to tell him something about him that she loves, but it's a dangerous game. That'll turn into lingering looks (they've got those down to a science) and soft touches, and they're alone in this room, and she doesn't want things to escalate without having a conversation. She just doesn't know what to say, and the amount of wine they've both consumed leads her to believe that they aren't in any frame of mind to talk about much of anything. Except freckles, apparently.

When she steps out of the bathroom with her satin slip on (the navy blue one, his favourite, he's told her) he's laying beneath the covers, and she wonders if he feels about their relationship the same way she does.

Like they're too important to mess up, and if they don't do this right, it won't last. The more time she spends with him, the more things he tells her about herself that she never even knew, the more she starts to think that them not lasting isn't even an option.

She honestly doesn't know how they've gone this long making all the wrong moves. As she feels him fall asleep next to her in the darkness, she realizes that whatever the next move is, as long as it ends up in them being together, there's no way it can be wrong.

----

They look so good together that it's almost criminal. Serena, with Blair's help, picked a long black silk Valentino with a bit of a sweeping train and a plunging neckline. The only jewelry she wears is a plain gold bangle that Lily brought her from Paris when Serena was eight, and a simple pair of gold hoop earrings. And Nate pulls off a tux even better than most, and he changes his hair so that he looks just a little older.

Serena's breath stops for a second when she sees him, fastening his gold monogrammed (_N.F.A._ engraved on the back, a gift on his 16th birthday) Omega when she walks into the living room where he, Chuck and Blair are waiting.

"Finally!" Blair proclaims dramatically, heading for the door, heels clacking against the floor. "Maybe if you didn't wait to get dressed until fifteen minutes before we have to leave, we'd actually get someplace _on time_ for once!"

Serena laughs, ignoring the glare she gets from her best friend, and walks over to Nate. "When'd she get so mean?" she asks.

Nate laughs and shakes his head. "Where have you been?" he asks teasingly. "Pretty sure she was born that way." He takes her hand as she giggles, and she inhales quickly when he smiles at her, that smile that's always made her totally weak in the knees. "You look beautiful." She rolls her eyes, but they both know she's gorgeous, and he doesn't want to let her get away with brushing it off. He pulls her towards him a little more, his thumb grazing the inside of her wrist. "_Beautiful_."

"Thank you," she whispers. For something she's heard so much in her life, Nate has always had a way of making it seem like she's never received that compliment before. "Ooh! Self portrait!"

"What?" he laughs, watching as she runs on her four inch heels back into his bedroom. She comes out holding a camera in her hand, and she presses her cheek against his and tells him to smile, so he does just before the flash goes off. "Blair's going to kill us."

"Blair's just bossy. It's fine," she insists, turning her head slightly and puckering her lips at the camera. "Nate! You _have_ to smile!" He laughs, but obliges, and she giggles at having gotten her way (as if there was any doubt.) "Okay. One serious one." She turns to look at him, and he turns to look at her, their faces just inches apart, and the corner of her mouth turns upward as she presses the button and takes the picture. She flips the camera around and looks at the photo. "Wow," she whispers. He peers over at the screen and she looks at him. "We look...that's a good picture."

She's standing so close that he can feel her hand brushing against his hip as she stands in front of him, and he can smell her perfume. He's kind of going crazy with wanting her.

"Serena," he says softly, eyes searching her face for any indication that, if he were to kiss her right now (he so wants to) she'd be alright with that.

She presses her lips together softly as her hand comes up to take hold of the lapel of his jacket, and he reaches out to rest his hand on her hip. He's watching her lips, and when she smiles, he knows he's got her. In whatever ways he wants her, he has her. So when he kisses her, he almost sighs a little, because it feels like he's wanted this _forever_ (probably has) and that this time, he's never letting her go, and that the fact that she's kissing him back, holding his jacket even tighter, means a whole lot more than anyone might think. She moves a little closer, so her whole front is up against his whole front, and his free hand comes up to cup her cheek, and her arms are draped around his neck. He can feel the discrete, slim little zipper at her side, and he's really fucking tempted to tug it down (that freckle...), but he can't do it.

She pulls away from him, feeling lightheaded and crazy and giggly and in love or something, and she rests her forehead against his. She doesn't laugh, not like she has the other times they've kissed throughout their lifetime, because it's not funny this time. It's...it's _real_. Her forehead is against his, and his eyes are still closed, so she brushes her lips against his once more, just softly. She can't get enough of him. She has no idea why they didn't do this sooner.

"We have to go," she reminds him. He sighs, holds her tightly and doesn't appear to want to stop holding her tightly. "I know," she whispers. "But we promised."

"We have to...we should...talk," he manages, though when he opens his eyes, he's a little spellbound by her.

She nods, slips her hand into his and walks backwards towards the door, knowing damn well that he can't not follow her. "We will," she promises.

----

When he finds her again, a fresh glass of champagne in his hand to give to her, she's talking to some politician, and he almost laughs, because since when is she so into politics? But he hears her holding her own in a conversation about low-income housing in Brooklyn, and he's reminded that she's been reading the paper and watching news shows when she's at home during the day. And there's something ridiculously sexy about a girl that gorgeous being well-informed. But there he goes again, thinking that something (everything) about her is the best thing. As he weaves through a few people, flashing a smile as he does so, he thinks that if he were asked to, he wouldn't be able to pick his favourite thing about her.

They got separated after saying their initial hellos to her family, Serena asking, too loudly for Lily's liking, what the benefit was for anyway. Nate just smiled politely and tried to reign Serena in just a little bit, catching the subtle wink Lily sent him for his efforts; the two of them have been doing the same thing for years, it's just easier now, getting Serena to plaster on her smile, stand up straight, and act like the perfect daughter she sometimes is.

She's certainly living up to that title now. He rests his hand on her back and offers her the flute of champagne as he smiles at the man she's been speaking with. Nate sees now that it's one of the Mayor's advisors, and he extends his hand.

"Nathaniel," the man, Samuel, says. "How is your grandfather?"

Nate smiles and nods his head; he's gotten used to bluffing. "Same as always," he says, and both he and Samuel laugh, for no reason in particular. "How is Alice? Is she still organizing the clothing drive at St. Andrews?"

Serena looks over at Nate, completely surprised that he both knows who Samuel's wife is, and which charities she's tied to. That's kind of...sexy. But then again, everything about Nate, especially right now, his scotch, neat, in one hand and his other resting at the small of her back, his black bowtie tied to precision and his blue eyes shining in the light of the chandeliers, is sexy.

If she thinks hard enough (if she lets herself) she can almost see them in ten years, rings on their fingers, doing this very same thing.

She stands, the very picture of a perfect woman, and listens as Samuel explains that his wife is indeed still chairing the committee, that she's currently visiting relatives in the midwest, and Nate promises to have his mother be in touch to help out with the charity. When it's just the two of them alone again, Serena drapes her arm around Nate's shoulder lazily and turns so they can survey the room.

"This isn't so bad," she notes.

She watches Chuck and Blair talking to one of the city's foremost real estate developers, Blair smiling easily and Chuck hanging on the man's every word. She watches Dan and Vanessa, looking completely uncomfortable and out of place, and when Dan checks his watch, she knows he's promised Rufus and Lily that he'll be there only until a certain time. Erik sends Serena a pleading glance from across the room and she laughs, because he's caught in a conversation with three 70-year-old women who think he's just _the_ cutest thing. Jenny's giggling into her champagne flute and tossing her hair over her shoulder as she talks to some boy or another.

Things could be worse. She realizes that this is one of the first functions she's been to when neither she nor Nate is dating someone else. She doesn't even know the last time that happened.

She can tell he's a little nervous or something, and she assumes it's because they were kissing earlier and didn't have any time to talk about what that all meant (though she hopes to God it means the same to him as it does to her). This is the most she's stood next to him in an hour and a half, and she really hopes that wasn't by design.

They make it through another hour, standing there together, nursing their drinks and talking to anyone who talks to them. She laughs, says it's kind of weird that they're already so well-known that people seek them out to chat at these things, and Nate reminds her that not only have they been coming to these parties since they hit double digits, but now that they're 'adults', they're deemed almost equals. So Serena laughs when one man tells her that she never would have liked Brown anyway, and Nate laughs when someone makes a satirical political joke, and she's on her third glass of champagne when things start to go south.

Peter Goldman, a man notorious for taking advantage of open bars and running his mouth just a little bit, walks towards them, and Serena can't think of a good excuse for a quick exit, so they're suckered into a half hour conversation with the man and his gossip of a wife. The conversation starts to wind down, and Serena is just about ready to breathe her sigh of relief, but it's premature, she learns.

"Tell Tripp he's doing a great job in Washington, will you?" Peter says. "It's about time we had a good man like that representing..."

She tunes the rest out, and she's never been more thankful that Nate knows her so well. He locks eyes with her, notes that her glass is empty, says a quick goodbye to the couple, and holds out his arm for her to slip hers through. They make it out of the room and into the hall, but Serena hasn't said a word, and he doesn't know what that means at all. They've talked, and he knows she isn't still hung up on Tripp, but on this night, of all nights, he really wishes she hadn't had the reminder.

She leans back against the wall and tips her head back. "Thanks," she breathes out, her eyes closed.

"You okay?" he asks worriedly, taking a step towards her. She looks at him and smiles, because he's just so perfect. Perfect looking, perfect...everything. She nods her head and slips her hand into his. "Okay."

"You wanna go?" she asks. She's looking at him through her eyelashes, gorgeous eyes blinking at him in the dim light of the corridor, and he can't say no. It's his turn to nod, and he can't stop himself from kissing her forehead, just gently. "We'll just say goodbye."

She tries to move away, but it's just been killing him to not have been able to really _talk_ to her at all, not about the thing he thinks is most important. "Serena."

She sighs, like it's not the time or the place (it probably isn't) but pulls him a little closer anyway. "Nate," she whispers. She doesn't know how many tries it's going to take before they actually have this conversation. She wants to just kiss him, because she's not great with words, but she's great with that. But she thinks he deserves words, because he's said so many amazing ones to her recently, and she wants to make him feel the way she felt when he said what he said. "I want you so bad," she admits, her eyes locked with his. She weaves their fingers together. "So bad."

"Serena..."

"No, Nate, it's been...I've felt more..._me_ in the last couple months than I have since...since I left three years ago," she says quietly, because that just sounds so similar to what he said to her that night, and she doesn't want to ruin his sentiment by merely saying it back to him. "And that's you. _You_ do that for me."

He shakes his head and laughs softly. "That's all you."

She bites the corner of her lip and she thinks she's going to do something stupid like cry, because he's always seen her as the perfect girl, even though he knows she's not. He doesn't ignore her flaws, try to cover them up or offer up solutions to fix them, fix herself. He knows what she is, every part of her, and he wants her anyway. She thinks that's kind of beautiful.

"It's just...with you and me, there was always a reason not to, you know?" she says, and he nods, because it's true. "And...maybe I was trying to find a reason why we shouldn't...why we couldn't do this, because it was easier than admitting that...that we really should," she admits. He looks just a little confused. "Because...because what if it doesn't work, Nate?"

He brushes her hair back from her face and shakes his head as he smiles. "What if it does?"

"Nate."

When he speaks, his tone is so soft that she has to really pay attention, to look at him as he talks. "Don't give up on us before we even start," he insists. He can tell she's trying not to smile. "You know we're good together, Serena. You _know_ that."

"Yeah, Nate, but...what if..."

"What if I love you?" he says, and he'd swear his heart stops, because doesn't he know by now that you can't just tell this girl that you love her? This is the girl who used to be Blair's maid when they all played house as kids, because she didn't want to married to anyone.

But she smiles, and her eyes shine like she might be tearing up, and he leans in a little closer. "What if you do?" she asks coyly.

"I won't hurt you," he says seriously. "I _promise_. I'm not..." He takes a breath, closes his eyes as he says the words that he thinks she might hate. "I'm not like them."

She knows what he means. Who he means. He's not Dan or Carter or Tripp, and he's not her father, who disappears and doesn't want to be found.

She kisses him hard, because he's never been any of them. He's never lied or judged her or used her (okay once, but it's water under the bridge now anyway). He's never left her to fend for herself or left her crying in a candlelit room. He'd do just about anything for her, and he's proven it time and time again.

And the thing is, she loves him so much, the way she loves him, but she knows that she doesn't love him the way he loves her, not yet anyway, and it scares her a little, because feeling more for him than she already does is kind of a big deal. There'll be no going back once she's told him so, once she feels the same way he does. The way he's so insistent that they'll work and that he won't break her heart, makes her really want to get to that point. She doesn't think it's going to take very long at all.

And she's confusing even herself, because every time they kiss, every time he even gets this close to her, she feels like she's in love with him. It'd scare her if she could feel more for him than this, because she was in love with someone else before, but this is even deeper than that. Maybe it's the history and the friendship they've always had, but with Nate, it feels like more of everything than it ever was with anyone else.

She pulls away from him, his eyes dark blue and his breathing heavy, and the way his hands feel on her hips and the way he feels pressed up against her, she doesn't think she can wait until they get home. And besides, it's kind of their 'thing' to sneak out of parties to be together.

She gets a devious look in her eye as she slips her hands into his and pulls him towards the unmanned coat check room, and as crazy as she's making him, he at least has the good sense to say her name and ask her what she's doing. The door closes behind them, and her hands are on his lapels as she giggles, pulling him close, and he's laughing when she kisses him. He can't very well tell her to stop, not when all he's wanted for months is this, her, like she is right now, happy and laughing and gorgeous and _his_.

Her shoe tumbles from her foot as she pushes him back into the room, and she smiles against his lips and unbuttons his jacket. She's lopsided as they walk, and they break apart only to laugh at themselves, and then he pulls the clip from her hair (she knows how much he loves it when she wears it down; it's just _her_) and his hand cups the back of her head to keep her close.

It's not until his back is pressed against a wall and she's got his tie and his top two buttons undone that he takes a second to think about exactly where this is going, what they're doing and what they've said. As much as it kills him to stop her, as for the second time in their lives she slips her hands beneath the fabric of his dress shirt, he pulls away a little bit.

"Serena." He's almost certain his eyes roll back in his head when she kisses him, just to the left of his adam's apple. He places his hands on her upper arms, holds her tightly and their eyes lock. "I've waited so long for this."

She smiles and blinks slowly. "I know."

"So let me take you home and..." He stops to take a breath, knowing that what he's about to say won't scare her away. It's an amazing feeling. "Let me lay you down and _be_ with you."

She feels like her heart might explode or something, overwhelmed by him but not getting enough of him at the same time. She takes his face in her hands gently and kisses him, just once. "Okay," she whispers.

He buttons his shirt and jacket as she finds her shoes again, and her hands shake the entire cab ride back to the Empire, and when he slides closer to her, nuzzling against her neck and whispering something about how she looks in her dress, she feels like she's 15 again with a silly crush on him that she's not supposed to have. Only now she's 18, and they're together (_together!_ and it's making her giddy) and whatever's about to happen between them is completely okay. More than okay.

She kisses him in the elevator, both her hands in both of his and their bodies pressed together, because it's been far too difficult to not kiss him since they left the function they were at. He nearly keels over when she tucks her hand into his pants pocket and comes up with they key to their place. But as soon as they're inside, she tells him that she doesn't want interruptions, that she just wants him, and so they take the stairs, stopping to kiss (they don't laugh, because they want one another far too much to think anything is funny), two floors down to the suite that's hers that she hasn't stayed in in far too long.

He unzips her dress, kisses that freckle he's only ever kissed once or twice before, and he lays her down on her bed and looks at her like she's all he's ever wanted. When she breathes out his name and reaches out for him, he loosens his tie and drops it to the floor, and he kisses her as she unbuttons his shirt.

"Serena, I..." He stops, shakes his head and looks at her, because he knows her too well to think that he could just say those three words, present tense, and not scare her.

"What?" she asks, placing her hands on his cheeks as their eyes lock.

He's never felt anything more amazing than this. She's telling him that it's okay to say them, that she wants him to, and that she's not going anywhere if she hears him say that he loves her. It'll be real, serious and big and something that he can't take back. It won't be part of another discussion, not like earlier. It won't be a question. It'll be absolute, and it is, he knows, but saying it out loud to her, having her want to hear it, is almost too much; he's been waiting for this, for some variation of this moment, for all his life.

He smiles, runs his thumb over the apple of her cheek sweetly like she's the most delicate thing he's ever touched. "I _love_ you."

She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him close, and he kisses her neck a few times. She doesn't know how they got here, and suddenly all the stuff that happened before, their entire sordid past, doesn't seem so complicated anymore. After all, at the root of it, there was just love. She loved him, and he loved her, and maybe that was wrong or inappropriate at times, but it's all seemed to work out. Because right now, she's realizing that they're still young. They're not as old as they sometimes feel, and they have all sorts of time to figure everything else out. Very little is more important than him, his weight resting atop her and her heart beating a million miles an hour.

"I love you too," she whispers, her lips right next to his ear.

Maybe it's a little crazy to say it so soon; they're just barely a couple. But they've been building towards this for months and months, probably since he sat and listened to her talk about his cousin. Since he told her he'd loved her all those years ago. Since he told her not to go, and since he fell asleep in that hospital chair. Since he stayed with her and since he insisted she stay with him. Since he'd do anything for her and she realized she'd do anything for him.

They don't say much more after that. He's finally heard what she's wanted to say for so long. And she's his now. There'll be plenty of time for more words.

_**-Fin-**_


End file.
